


Crown Prince

by celli



Category: RPF - American Idol
Genre: Yuletide, challenge:NYR 2009
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-01
Updated: 2009-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-15 03:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/844923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celli/pseuds/celli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His Royal Highness David of Roland, Knight of the High Court and Crown Prince of the finest kingdom in all the land. And his, um, servant, Archie. My apologies to the BBC series Merlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crown Prince

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ToraK](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ToraK).



"Archie? Archie!"

No one really looked up as the bellow echoed down the castle corridors. It was at least the third time that day.

Prince David hurried down the hall. "Have you seen Archie?" he kept asking people, rushing by before they could even respond. "Has anyone--Archie? My servant, Archie?"

He continued his dash down the hall, going faster and faster until someone threw out an arm and pulled him to a halt. "Ow!"

Syesha, Lady Mercado, gave him the same fond but exasperated look she'd been giving him for nearly ten years now. "Are you a prince or a stable boy, David?"

"Have you seen Archie?" he asked.

She shook her head. "If you trip and knock your head into a wall, your uncle will not be pleased," she said, and continued on her way.

He turned beseeching eyes on her maidservant, Carly.

"Try the courtyard," she suggested.

_"Again?"_

She lifted her hands in a "what do you do" shrug and followed Syesha away.

* * *

The village children scattered as the prince approached the stocks. One of the little girls let fly with a last tomato as she scurried away. David caught it in mid-air and let it drop to the ground.

"Do I even want to know?"

"It was absolutely an accident," Archie said, looking at him with his usual wide-eyed innocence. He had a green leaf stuck to his chin, and there were tomato seeds in his eyelashes. David leaned his head against the (mostly clean) corner of the stocks and groaned quietly. "It was, I swear, Your Highness."

"What did you break this time?"

"It was a very small statue?" Archie offered.

David groaned again.

"I'm sorry?"

"You always are." He tried to work up a good case of outrage, but Archie just looked so sheepish and miserable. He shook his head. "All right, then. Let's get you out of here--" He started to motion to the guards, but Archie shook his head frantically.

"No, no!"

David blinked at him. "No?"

Archie's gaze darted up to the high windows that marked the throne room. "I'm fine here. Really. It's not much longer, and...I don't want to, ah, it's so fun for the children, you know?"

"Fun. For the children."

Archie gave him a weak smile.

Carefully not looking up at the castle, David stepped forward and took Archie's face in his hands. "Listen. I can't forbid you to sing. You'd forget in half a day, and I'd have to put you in the stocks myself."

"Probably," Archie admitted mournfully.

"But if you don't learn to be careful and _pay attention to what you're doing_ around the rest of the court--Archie, there are worse punishments than the stocks."

"I'll try. I will."

The prince sighed and dropped his hands. The leaf on Archie's chin stuck to his fingers, and he took a perverse pleasure in wiping it on Archie's shirt, ignoring the indignant look aimed at him. "I'll see you shortly, then."

It didn't surprise him to see one of his brother's servants step out from the arched doorway into the castle and motion to him. "The King requests your presence, Prince David."

"If course he does," David said, resigned.

* * *

"Do you ever think about who you are and what you represent?" King Simon demanded the second David set foot in the room.

"Of course I do. I think about it all the time." David slouched into a chair and propped one boot up on his knee. "I look in the mirror first thing in the morning and I say to myself," he deepened his voice into an imitation of his uncle's, "you, sir, are His Royal Highness David of Roland, Knight of the High Court and Crown Prince of the finest kingdom in all the land." He looked up. "I'm so awe-inspiring, I'm not sure how I survive the day."

"David."

"Uncle."

 _"David._ "

David shut his mouth.

"You've been avoiding this conversation for far too long. I've allowed it for far too long. I wanted you to have as much freedom as you could."

Freedom? David gave Simon an incredulous look, but kept quiet.

"We both know that I'll never father a son." Simon's face darkened, and David sat stunned in his chair; Simon never mentioned his wife's illness, or the sorceress whose "cure" had been more of a curse than a blessing to the kingdom. "I know you care about this kingdom. You've fought to defend it time and time again. But the time has come to be more than a knight. To be the future king."

Simon continued, talking about responsibilities and respect, but it all echoed hollowly in David's ears.

David had accepted the title of Crown Prince years ago, but had never considered it anything other than a formality. With the King's blunt proclamation--no son, no other heir--the reality of it hit him; his own future, laid out, with no choices open to him. He was going to have to become what his uncle was.

"I have to go," he said, jolting to his feet. Simon slammed a hand down on the table, and David waved a hand at him. "I hear you, I just--I have to go."

He was just at the door when Simon said sharply, "David."

"Yes...Sire," he forced himself to say.

"That servant of yours. The one that sings and knocks over valuables."

"I've spoken to Archie. He'll be more careful."

"There are a hundred servants in this castle with more skill and less clumsiness than Archie."

"Fine, let Archie sing in front of the court and I'll take one of them as my manservant." David said it by rote, knowing the exact frown lines that would crease Simon's face and the way he'd shake his head.

"He's a _servant,_ David."

"Then he stays my servant." David looked his uncle straight in the eye. "Even a king is allowed a friend, isn't he?"

* * *

A quick look out the window told David that Archie had finally been released from the stocks, so he headed down to the court physician's quarters to check on him.

The raised voice was clear from halfway down the hall; David leaned on the wall by the door and waited for the lecture to be finished.

"--trying to make enemies at the court?"

"I'm _sorry,_ Ryan." David winced in sympathy at the misery in Archie's voice.

"Archie," Ryan said, "you have a great gift. A great destiny. But you don't just trip and fall into a destiny; you have to keep your wits about you. The prince needs you."

"I don't want to let him down," Archie said, and David looked away from the door, hiding his reaction to it even though there was no one to see him.

Ryan made noises that suggested he was about to start in on Archie again, and David decided it was time to save him. He rapped on the door a couple of times and pushed it open. "Archie?"

Archie and Ryan turned. "Your highness!" Ryan said, making his typical half-bow. "How can we help you?"

"I need Archie," David said. He stopped to look at the vegetable bits still clinging to his servant. "I need a relatively clean Archie," he clarified.

"Oh! Yes. I'll just--" Archie edged backwards towards the other room, tripped, caught himself on a table (the bottles on it shook dangerously), straightened up, turned, and ran.

Ryan put one hand over his face. David laughed.

"What is this, his third time in the stocks this week?" Ryan asked.

"Mm," David said. It was the fourth.

"At least his clothes are cleaned regularly." Ryan sat down with a sigh.

David studied Ryan. He knew the physician had been one of his uncle's closest advisors for years, and had in fact been there for David's own birth, but his shoulders were straight and his face was unlined--unless he was worrying about Archie, actually.

They could faintly hear both singing and splashing from the other room. Ryan sighed again.

"I heard what you said to Archie earlier," David said. "About his gift."

Ryan raised an eyebrow in David's direction. "You did?"

"I agree with you. Everyone should know about him." Ryan made a humming sound, so David continued. "If I could arrange it, the _world_ would hear him sing."

"It's good to hear that you have such faith in his abilities," Ryan said, sounding amused for some reason.

David blushed. "I'll think of something, I promise. He shouldn't have to be my servant."

"As long as he is your servant, though, I expect him to try his hardest at it, and stop breaking things." Ryan raised his voice on the last few words, and David turned to see Archie dashing back into the room, wearing his second-best clothes, his hair dripping and his feet bare.

"Archie," David said with a sigh just like Ryan's. He grabbed the towel from Archie and scrubbed it mercilessly over his head. Archie squeaked in protest. "Sometimes I can't believe it's _your_ job to take care of _me."_

* * *

When David was little, he was _so excited_ that he was going to grow up to be a soldier. Shiny swords! Parades and tournaments! Blood and guts!

He stood on the practice field, showing Sir Castro how to do the same defensive move he'd been trying to teach him for a week, and mentally apologized to his younger self. Being a soldier was rote practice, and sore muscles, and horse training, and knight training (horses were easier), and, yes, okay, the occasional encounter with blood and guts. Not at all what he'd signed up for.

Still, it was a mild enough day that his armor wasn't oppressive, and he actually liked most of his knights. He sighed and tapped Castro on the helmet with his sword again. And Archie was on the other side of the fence mending something and singing a song he'd made up about one of David's battles, a song that made him sound even better than he'd actually been. Life could be worse.

He'd regret that thought later, because almost immediately there was a strange sound from a group of knights not far from him. Sir Hernandez (Sir Hands, the other knights called him, for a variety of unhealthy reasons) was--was roaring, making a sound that really didn't belong in any human mouth. He charged the prince, sword first, and David only barely deflected the blade and moved out of Sir Hernandez's range.

"Hands!" he barked. "Stop!"

Sir Hernandez charged again, knocking Castro aside effortlessly as he tried to block him. David just barely pushed the blade to the side this time, and the knight crashed into him, knocking him flat. He heard the rest of his knights shouting, but Sir Hernandez was right on top of him, and pulled a dagger from somewhere.

"No," David said fiercely, trying to gain some sort of leverage--

And suddenly Sir Hernandez collapsed and slid to the side.

David stayed down for just a moment, gasping, then turned to look towards the fence. Archie was standing there, arm outstretched--

\--his eyes were _glowing._

"No," David whispered again.

* * *

Sir Hands had been clapped in irons in the dungeon. Ryan was down there investigating him while he swore his innocence. David sat through a kingly dressing down from Uncle Simon--what he'd done wrong, he wasn't sure, since he spent the whole time staring Archie down from across the room--and then escaped to his quarters, dragging Archie along with him.

"Ow," Archie said under his breath as David hauled him around a corner. David eased his grip a bit but kept walking.

He slammed the door, more or less tossed Archie into a chair, then stomped over to stand in front of him, close enough that Archie had to crane his neck to look up at him.

"You're a _sorcerer."_

Archie went dead white. David just glared at him, waiting, until Archie finally managed to say, "Please don't kill me," in the smallest of voices.

"What?" David's temper flared even higher. "Of course I'm not going to kill you, you idiot, what's wrong with you?"

"The penalty for sorcery is beheading."

"Well, you didn't think I'd let them hurt you, did you?"

Archie stayed silent.

"Oh." David turned away, running a hand over his beard.

His door opened, and Syesha stuck her head in, only in a graceful ladylike way. "Carly wants me to make sure you're not killing Archie in here."

"Nobody's. Getting. Killed," David said, and glared her back out the door. He stormed over and locked it.

"I don't know where to start," he said, turning back around. "I can't believe all this time I thought your gift was _singing._ I feel so stupid."

"You like my singing?"

David looked up, but Archie had turned away from him. There was a long silence.

Finally, David said, "You shouldn't have done it."

Archie's head whipped back around. "I--what? I had to! He was going to kill you."

"If anyone but me had seen you, _you_ would have been killed."

"I had to," Archie repeated, sticking his chin out in a stubborn look he only usually got when persuading David to take a disgusting medicine when he was sick. "You have to live."

A memory from the day before struck David. "Does this have anything to do with that destiny thing Ryan was going on about before? I thought at the time he meant you being a rich and famous singer, but maybe I was missing something."

Archie's eyes went a little dreamy at the idea, but then he focused back on David. "You're right. That's not my destiny."

David waited. "...Well, then?"

Archie stood up and walked the few steps across to David. "Haven't you guessed?" he asked, in a voice so low David could barely hear it, and when David leaned in closer, Archie put one hand on his cheek and kissed him.

"Oh," David said blankly a few minutes later.

Archie smiled up at him, and in the candlelight his eyes seemed to glow just the faintest bit. "We're going to change the world," he told David, and kissed him again. 

 


End file.
